


four seasons

by kirinokisu



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-30
Updated: 2013-08-30
Packaged: 2017-12-25 03:25:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/948070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kirinokisu/pseuds/kirinokisu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their relationship goes through a seasonal rollercoaster: they start at the carefree happy summer, plummet down the bitter autumn, reach the bottom of the merciless winter until finally, they arrive at the sweet budding spring.</p>
            </blockquote>





	four seasons

**Author's Note:**

> No real spoilers, but might be confusing if you haven't read the Teikou arc. Small inconsistencies with the timeline.

_**i**. summer._

The first summer in middle school is sweltering hot.

On one of those humid days, he meets this funny, strange and slightly creepy boy in the darkness of the rarely used fourth gym when he escapes the stuffed one he normally uses and the ever growing crowds of players who stay for extra training in hopes of becoming like them, like the infamous first-years that made it to the first string, the unarguable basketball geniuses of Teikou middle school. Daiki doesn't much care about those people. Most of them are decent enough and as long as they play him with all they've got, everything's fine.

But this boy, this short strange boy with impossibly huge eyes blinking owlishly in the dim light of the gym, is different. He's weak and he's no good and he has no talent, but he trains and trains and trains until he can move no more, and even then he tries to stand up and train some more. He practices harder than anybody Daiki has ever seen, himself included. 

He doesn't know the meaning of giving up.

Daiki isn't sure what it is that keeps him coming back to that partially abandoned place, but something does, and every single afternoon, he finds himself playing with that odd boy – Tetsu, as he calls him – instead of playing against real players, ones who pose at least some challenge; never mind that most don't. 

Daiki doesn't care at the moment, because out there, there are hundreds of players waiting to be beaten by the great Aomine Daiki, the invincible ace of Teikou. 

Tetsu pinches his ribs painfully whenever he says that. He shouts indignantly in return, but always ends up laughing in the end. Tetsu answers with a tiny smile – more like a slight upturn of his lips, really – and suddenly the room is too warm for Daiki to handle.

They train relentlessly each day until the sun sets down and it's not so hot anymore. They would've probably trained well into the night, too, if the janitor didn't appear every evening, murmuring something about crazy basketball kids with an exasperated look on his face, telling them to stop being ridiculous and go home already. They go for popsicles, bright blue ones, on their way home, sometimes taking the longer route just to prolong the time. They talk about basketball and joke about the grouchy janitor and Midorima's weird habits. It's easy and fun, being with Tetsu.

When they finally stand on the same court, Daiki has this ridiculous feeling he's floating above the ground, about to soar into the sky, because finally, finally! He isn't surprised when Tetsu doesn't let him, pale fist bumping gently against his own successfully bringing him back to reality, to the court where Tetsu's incredible passes are waiting. The huge grin on Daiki's face stays until he passes out on his bed, dead tired but happy, and even in his sleep, he's still smiling.

Everyone on the team notices it too, this bond they have developed. It is strange how well they work together, how compatible they are, how even while being so different outside of basketball, they become one on the court. They are Teikou's invincible combo. A combo that is sadly recognized only by their teammates, because despite making it to the first-string, Tetsu it still impossible to notice. It's all good though, because that way Daiki is special. After all, he always sees Tetsu. Or almost always, he discovers as Tetsu, the sneaky bastard, appears out of thin air and Daiki, spooked, promptly spills his drink.

The team starts to call Tetsu Daiki's little shadow, because wherever or however Daiki passes, no matter how random the direction of the pass may seem to the other players on the court, Tetsu is always, always there to catch it. He refuses to address the fact that this little nickname makes him almost giddy and there's this funny feeling in his stomach whenever he hears someone say it. 

The hot summer days of his first year in middle school are filled with basketball, laughter and Tetsu. 

He feels like those youthful days will never end. That they will only get better, because how can they not when their team is the best, he is the strongest and Tetsu is right beside him, like a shadow to the brightest light.

He couldn't have been more wrong.

 

_**ii**. autumn._

In his second year of middle school, Daiki begins to feel the first signs of autumn frost. In a true autumn fashion, the cold comes unexpectedly and catches him off guard; it feels like just yesterday it was hot, and fun, and infinite, and then suddenly it's chilly, and joyless, and boring.

He is the best of the best. He knows he is. And yet, it fails to make him happy for some reason.

Daiki doesn't get it. His dream came true. He is THE Aomine Daiki, the unbeatable ace of the unbeatable team. He should be overjoyed, shouldn't he?

But instead all he can feel is the coming winter chill that he feels deep in his bones. He tries to shake it, but gets even colder every time he does.

It's weird how last autumn, when he and Tetsu still practiced in that old gym, the weather was warm and gentle, colouring everything around them with vibrant golden and crimson hues. This one, when he and Tetsu rarely even hang out together because Daiki develops a habit of skipping practice, is monochromatic. As if someone up above splashed black paint on their basketball team out of boredom and now all the colour is sucked out, leaving only black and white, black and white, and the seemingly endless grey.

He can barely open his sleepy eyes in the morning when he should've been up for hours already, too hyped before a match to sleep. He yawns as he leaves his house. He peeks at the sky, in vain hopes of catching sunlight, even though he knows he won't, but he still _hopes_. Only grey clouds greet him and a couple of cold raindrops fall on his face. He curses, but doesn't pick up his pace. There's no point anyway.

Maybe if he's drenched and shivering with cold during the match, beating the other team wouldn't be as easy. 

Teikou wins with tripled score.

Daiki shivers as he and Tetsu walk towards the crossroad where they usually part their ways. He picks up his pace because he's freezing and Tetsu is silent and Satsuki is not there to fill that sudden awkward gap between them.

Lately, he finds it hard to look at his shadow. He would never admit it, not even to himself, but he's afraid. Afraid of seeing a disappointed look in Tetsu's determined eyes. Disappointment in his light. Which is downright ridiculous because Daiki is the best and Tetsu should be proud of him. So why, why is it so hard to look at Tetsu? Tetsu, whose tiny smile is not the same anymore. It's sad and bitter. It doesn't warm him anymore when he is so desperate to feel that warmth again.

“Aomine-kun? Is something wrong?”

Tetsu's voice is as dry as always, but there is this foreign note in it that Daiki catches but fails to interpret because he has never heard it before. All that he knows is that it doesn't suit Tetsu, and he doesn't like it, and he wants it gone.

He averts his eyes instead.

“Nah, everything's fine.”

A mere week later, as he stands in the cold autumn rain, he realizes that he doesn't even remember how to catch Tetsu's passes anymore. It's been so long since he caught one that he doesn't know how to do it.

And Tetsu, Tetsu doesn't deny it, doesn't fight him on it. Just stands there in front of Daiki, helpless and shivering, looking tinier than ever. A pale ghost, a mirage that could never understand how it feels to be the very best.

At that moment, Daiki feels what he thought he would never ever feel when it comes to Tetsu – envy. He laughs, but it comes out hollow and makes Tetsu flinch.

The cold embraces him like an old friend, welcoming him, never letting him go again. The rain keeps falling around him, harder and harder, until he can't see Tetsu anymore.

Daiki never knew autumn could be so deceiving.

 

_**iii.** winter._

His last year at Teikou is cold, so very cold. Basketball brings no joy anymore, their legendary team is in shambles, and Tetsu is nowhere in sight.

Daiki is convinced that the lonely school roof he chose as his napping place is the coldest place in the world, colder than the North Pole itself. Yet he doesn't move from his spot.

Slowly, he feels himself freeze. He doesn't mind. Like this, he can't feel anything.

Not the cold, not the emptiness, not the hurt. All of which he is learning to ignore.

He entertains himself by competing with other Teikou members in scoring the most. Most of the time, he wins. He is the ace, after all. The only one who can beat him is him alone. And Akashi, if the bastard condescends to join their little game. It doesn't happen often.

Daiki gets bored soon. So in the finals, they come up with a new game. It's not all that fun, but it's better than nothing. Not to mention five ones look pretty neat on the scoreboard. 

And really, it's not like it's his fault those weaklings are not worth paying attention to. He's allowed to have fun, isn't he?

Except, he doesn't really have fun at all. Not the kind he uses to associate with basketball anyway.

That's when he realizes Tetsu is no longer there. The guy hasn't been playing much lately since he wasn't really needed anymore, but Daiki always saw his messy mop of blue hair on the bench, watching the game with the customary intensity Tetsu always bestowed upon basketball. 

He's not there anymore. Not cheering the team, not talking to Satsuki, not changing in the locker room. 

Daiki frowns and dismisses it. When he doesn't see Tetsu for a whole week, he starts to worry. He's looking for Tetsu now and he can't find him. He, who always prided himself on seeing Tetsu despite all that low-presence and misdirection shit. Now he's actually looking and he can't fucking find him. 

It's like he vanished into thin air. One moment he is beside Daiki and the next he is not. Daiki doesn't like it, that feeling of not having Tetsu nearby. It's weird not to see that perfect poker face and those eyes shining with mischief contradicting the blank expression, not hearing the dry remarks laced with subtle unique humour that is purely Tetsu, not feeling that steady pressure of having his shadow watch his back. It's weird and it's uncomfortable, and Daiki doesn't like it one bit. 

The strange empty feeling he's been steadily tuning out for some time now intensifies and Daiki feels as if there is this Tetsu-shaped hole in the air beside him and now that Tetsu is not there to fill it, it's icy cold and pitch dark, and it almost suffocates Daiki.

When Daiki finally shows up for practice in hopes of catching his shadow there, Akashi informs the team that the boy quit.

The world stops spinning for a moment.

Tetsu, his loyal unwavering shadow, has finally given up on basketball. On the team. On him.

There is this horrible hollowness inside him that he is used to ignore, but now it is growing, growing, clawing at him from the inside, leaving painful scratches and wounds, twisting his insides, eating him alive, expanding like a balloon. He doesn't put up a fight.

Instead, he shrugs and leaves for the roof. There is no point in practice anymore. Akashi doesn't stop him. Maybe because Akashi is just as empty and cold. Maybe victory isn't everything, after all. 

There is a tiny voice inside of Daiki that keeps telling him that he is the reason Tetsu is not by his side anymore, that he brought it upon himself. He knows everyone blames him for it, even if they don't say it. The fools think he doesn't notice the accusing looks Murasakibara keeps sending him, the worried glances Kise casts at him from time to time, the condescending glares from Midorima, and the constantly pained expression on Satsuki's face. But he does. He sees it all. But who are they to look at him like that? What right do they have?

So he squashes the voice down mercilessly because he just doesn't fucking care anymore and everyone's fucking ridiculous.

It's not his fault everyone's so weak he doesn't even have to _try_ to win. It's not his fault basketball is so boring. It's not his fault he's so good. What is he supposed to do? Give the ball to those fuckers that just stand there, staring at him as if he's some kind of monster, and let them score? Maybe take their hand and walk them to the hoop? Give them a lift so they can dunk?

Laying on the roof of Teikou middle school, skipping practice once again, Aomine Daiki thinks that this is the coldest winter he's experienced in his whole life.

Only because he doesn't yet know that the next one will be even colder.

He would be replaced. He would no longer be a light.

So he would not have his shadow either.

 

_**iv.** spring._

“Aomine-kun, can you meet me at our usual street court?”

Daiki almost drops the phone when he hears Tetsu's soft, familiar — so achingly familiar he would've wept if he was a chick and not the great Aomine Daiki — voice. Because even though he saw Tetsu's name on the display, he didn't believe it. He still couldn't. 

_Meet me. Our court._

Tetsu only ever uttered those words in Daiki's dreams now.

He pinches his own wrist and has to stifle a yelp because it fucking hurts and he didn't expect it to.

“Aomine-kun?”

Right. Tetsu. Real Tetsu.

“Uh, yeah. Sure. I'll be there in a few.”

“Thank you.”

When Tetsu bows politely and asks Daiki to teach him how to shoot, Daiki is afraid. Afraid of this sudden hope growing rapidly inside of him because Tetsu asked _him_ to help. Not Kagami, not Kise, not his captain, but _him_.

But Daiki has forgotten how it feels to have hope and he's afraid, so he shrugs it off like he's bored and he has nothing better to do, so yeah, why not teach a guy who can't shoot for shit how to do it in three days when three years were not enough before.

They train for hours, because this is Tetsu, and Tetsu doesn't know the words “give up”. He shoots, and shoots, and shoots, even though more than a half of his balls miss the hoop. He still shoots.

Daiki is tempted to just sit and watch him, but he can't. Because whenever he is standing on the same court as Tetsu, just like this, he can't help wanting to give it his all too. So he takes the ball and shoots, and shoots, and shoots.

They even end up playing one-on-one at some point. 

When he goes to buy some drinks for both Tetsu and himself, he realizes he's tired. And he's happy.

Because he forgot how exhilarating it is to train, to do your best, to simply enjoy the game.

The rush after winning a hard match and the sharp bitter taste of defeat, one that never changes no mater how good or bad you are. The trust of his teammates, one that even his current team has in him even though he doesn't deserve it. The pleasurable soreness of his muscles after captain's training from hell and then some of his own, with Tetsu. Just the two of them on some forgotten court.

Those are the best feelings in the world. 

“Aomine-kun is really amazing.”

He looks up from his bottle of Pocari and is immediately taken aback by the look in Tetsu's eyes – just as huge and owlish as they were in that abandoned fourth gym one hot afternoon, he notices, and just as determined – staring unblinkingly into Daiki's own, reading him like an open book. Those impossibly baby blue orbs crinkle with something Daiki cannot quite decipher, but something he definitely likes even though he has no idea why. Maybe it's because Tetsu's eyes are darker than usual, slightly hooded and almost glowing with _something,_ like they always do whenever Tetsu plays basketball. 

_No, the amazing one is you._

His brain doesn't properly register what's happening, but his arms are suddenly drawing Tetsu closer. The boy doesn't resist, doesn't push him back, and Daiki realises he was afraid he would. But Daiki is not someone to think about things or actions. He simply acts. 

So when he bends down and crushes his lips against Tetsu's, it's nothing rational.

Tetsu's lips are slightly dry, unbelievably soft yet firm at the same time as they move against his own, with no hesitation, without holding anything back. Just like the boy himself. Daiki can't get enough.

As Tetsuya's small hands wound around his neck, bringing him down, closer, closer, until there's no distance between them, there is this sudden rush of _something_ that spreads like an avalanche inside of him, filling him from his fingers to his toes, and Daiki realises that yes, this is it.

After a long, cold winter, he finally feels warm.  

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday, my precious idiot. I love you. Always.  
> Forgive me all the cheesiness.


End file.
